


Another way to communicate

by Eriskay



Series: Welcome to the island of misfit toys [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Like Yuri is 19, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 08:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10895547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriskay/pseuds/Eriskay
Summary: Graceful. Otabek had called Yuri graceful.It was far from the first time someone had told Yuri that, yet the way Otabek said it had made it sound somehow different. Like it wasn’t just an opinion but a deep and personal truth, integral to Otabek’s very being. Like Yuri being graceful was somehow important, to Otabek, so important that he’d chosen to convey it in actual words, and not just by lingering looks and sharp intakes of breath.In which Yuri and Otabek are involuntary roommates and Otabek won't stop looking, but he doesn'ttalk. Yuri makes it his mission to change that.





	Another way to communicate

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place during the events of the first part of this series, shortly after Otabek's arrival in Hasetsu. You can start by reading this fic, but I'd recommend you to read them in the order of the series as that will probably make a bit more sense.

“You look unhappy.”

Yuri looked up to find Phichit standing before him, something ominously contemplative in his expression. Quickly, Yuri aimed a glare in his direction, one of his not quite vicious ones that was still dark enough to clearly spell out _leave-me-the-fuck-alone-you-pathetic-loser_. However, to his great disappointment, Phichit didn’t even as much as flinch.

Fuck, he’d been getting soft.

“Is it Otabek?” Phichit plopped himself down on the couch beside Yuri, reaching out to scratch Serena under her chin. “You were kind of looking his way, at dinner. How’s the roommate thing going?”

“Go away, Phichit.”

Phichit laughed softly.

“That bad, huh?”

“No, it’s…” Yuri sighed. “Otabek’s fine. It’s all fine.”

“That’s a bit hard to believe, when your face tells me you’d kind of like to murder someone way more than usually.”

That almost made Yuri smile.

“He’s actually not bad,” he said quietly. Because really, it wouldn’t be fair to Otabek to make any of the others think he was a terrible roommate. “He keeps his shit tidy, and he’s quiet.”

 “Oh, I’ve definitely noticed the quiet part.” Phichit grinned slightly. “I got talking with him this morning and at first I thought he was super nice, but after a good fifteen minutes I realized he actually hadn’t said a word the entire time. The whole conversation was just me.”

“Monologue, Phichit. The word you’re looking for is monologue.”

“Ah, that’s what I said too! And I _think_ Otabek agreed. Or at least he like, nodded. Sort of. There was a definite head-movement going on.”

“Sounds like you two had quite the connection.”

“Have you tried to talk to him? Like, actually talk?”

“No,” Yuri said, hopefully not too quickly. “Not really.”

“Hm,” Phichit said, and unfortunately he was starting to smile. “Not even a little bit? Even though you’re basically hanging out all the time?”

“Me and Otabek don’t _hang out_. We just… We share a space. That’s all.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever you say.” Phichit still looked far too amused for Yuri’s liking. “Maybe you should try for like, more provocative topics? See if that gets any reaction.”

Yuri grimaced. “Is your advice always this shitty?”

“Hey, it might actually work!”

“Don’t think so.”

“You can’t know that if you don’t try it.”

Yuri shrugged.

Phichit’s eyes widened.

“Unless you’ve actually already…?”

Abruptly, Yuri got to his feet.

“I’m going. To my room. Not to see Otabek, just to… Stuff. See you.”

Phichit was grinning widely.

“Good luck! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Yuri groaned.

He quickly made his way out of the lounge and up the stairs of the inn. One of the definite perks of his new room was that it was located off to the side of the building and several floors up, away from the general bustle and noise of the main area. The closest room was some kind of storage space, and the neighbours above and below were mercifully quiet. The room itself was quite spacious, with two futons laid out along each wall and a couch situated right opposite the entrance. There was a closet on each side of the entrance and two small but perfectly functional desktops in the opposite corners. A low table was placed in the middle of the room, although Yuri hadn’t found himself using it very much.

Neither had Otabek.

Before Yuri entered, he paused for a second outside of the room, taking a couple of deep breaths. When he opened the door and stepped inside, he’d managed to arrange his expression into something at least partly resembling indifference. Otabek, who was lounging on his futon with some kind of magazine in his hands, had looked up when he heard Yuri enter. Meeting Yuri’s gaze directly, he offered a single nod.

Yuri nodded back.

He went over to his own futon, sat down on it and impulsively reached for his laptop. Quickly, he pulled up his browser, clicking onto a random news site so that he could pretend to scroll through the latest headlines. Yet out of the corner of his eye, he was watching Otabek carefully.

Yuri really didn’t know what to make of the other skater.

He hadn’t thought much of him, at first. Otabek’s arrival in Hasetsu had been a barely noticeable affair. It wasn’t until after they had started training together, and Otabek had kept looking over towards Yuri again and again, his expression infuriatingly unreadable, that Yuri had started to pay him any attention.

Graceful. Otabek had called Yuri graceful.

It was far from the first time someone had told Yuri that, yet the way Otabek said it had made it sound somehow different. Like it wasn’t just an opinion but a deep and personal truth, integral to Otabek’s very being. Like Yuri being graceful was somehow important, to Otabek, so important that he’d chosen to convey it in actual words, and not just by lingering looks and sharp intakes of breath.

The memory of Otabek’s voice still made Yuri shiver.

It was one of the few times he had gotten to hear it, and that actually wasn’t for lack of trying. After Yuri had ended up not only skating with Otabek during every single one of his practices (really, what were the odds?) but also sharing a room with him, Yuri had wasted no time in trying to engage the other in some kind of conversation. He hadn’t thought it’d be all that difficult to get Otabek to sprout at least a few words in response, if not actual complete sentences. Surely there must be something he could say that would compel Otabek to reply?

He'd started off quite simply. “If it’s still raining tomorrow I’m gonna punch someone.” “Nice job not completely flubbing your toeloop, today.” “That jacket looks kind of cool, is it new?”

Aside from a half-shrug in response to the direct question, Otabek hadn’t reacted at all.

Yuri had immediately decided to kick things up a notch.

“Mind if I play some music? It’s _ONE OK ROCK_ , ever heard of them? No? Trust me, you’ll love them.”

No reaction.

“You coming to dinner later? I hear there’s katsudon, which is actually pretty decent.”

No reaction.

“You look pretty fucking hot in that shirt.”

That had actually earned Yuri a half-raised eyebrow, and although it’d pleased him immensely to have enticed _some_ form of reaction from Otabek, he had also started to feel extremely frustrated by the whole endeavour. And, if he was honest with himself, by Otabek’s constant presence around him. Because, okay, _complete_ honesty – maybe Yuri found Otabek pretty fucking hot in more than just the one shirt, and maybe Otabek’s lack of responses had started to frustrate Yuri in a great number of ways.

Yet just as Yuri had started to think all his efforts would ultimately amount to nothing, last night had happened.

Yuri had been sore from his off-ice workout earlier in the day, not to mention bitter after yet another practice where instead of feeling proud of the progress he was finally making, he’d been distracted by thoughts of all the abilities he still lacked. When Yuri had returned into his and Otabek’s room in the evening, he’d felt incredibly tired. And somehow, the never-ending dichotomy of having Otabek’s constant and undivided attention yet being completely unable to discern a single emotion in Otabek’s stupidly attractive eyes had finally become too much.

Otabek had looked up when Yuri entered the room, and as per usual never looked away, and after an entire hour had passed in this manner something inside Yuri had snapped.

Yuri had taken a deep breath, before looking up, meeting Otabek’s eyes directly.

“So,” he’d started, his tone fairly casual. “What turns you on the most, during sex?”

Otabek had frozen.

Yuri hadn’t been able to suppress his smirk, because really, this was too fucking satisfying. Otabek had looked completely lost for words, yet for once it hadn’t seemed to be from a reluctance to express himself. Because for once, Otabek had appeared to be trying yet failing to come up with an actual response. Yuri had raised an eyebrow expectantly, surprisingly finding himself content to simply wait and see what Otabek would do.

After a moment, something in Otabek’s expression had shifted slightly. A smile had started to pull at his lips, and the look in his eyes had been different, too. Darker, and much more intense.

“You really want to know?”

Yuri had rolled his eyes.

“Why else would I ask, dumbass?”

Otabek had actually smiled, at that. And while the expression had looked very good on him, it had also reminded Yuri of just how badly Otabek and his stupid attractiveness had infuriated him for the past week.

“So what, you won’t tell me? I bet it’s something really embarrassing, like some really weird shit, something that’s not even-“

“Giving head.”

Yuri’s mouth had snapped shut.

Otabek had held his gaze for another moment, before calmly reaching out for a magazine, starting to flip through the pages.

Yuri wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed that Otabek actually hadn’t spared him another glance for the rest of the night.

 _Giving head_.

Those two words had echoed in Yuri’s mind all day, like a record player stuck on repeat. Even during his ever-important quad practice, when he’d really pushed himself to keep his focus, the sound of Otabek’s voice had been there at the back of his mind, calling for attention. And later during the afternoon, when Yuri had moved on to his usual session of counter turns, he’d finally given in and let that voice fill his mind completely. Only Yuri didn’t recall the words exactly as Otabek had spoken them. Instead, he’d indulgently allowed himself to imagine Otabek murmuring the words quietly, breathlessly. Desperately. As though Otabek had been asking a question, rather than answering one.

By the time Yuri got off the ice and hit the showers, it’d been all too easy to conjure up a few visuals to really complete the fantasy.

He hadn’t gotten himself off that fast in months.

Yuri shook his head a little, trying his best to keep those images from entering his mind again. It wouldn’t do, not with Otabek sitting less than five metres away from him, across the room. Although for once, Otabek wasn’t actually looking over towards Yuri. Instead, he was still flipping through that same, seemingly endless magazine. Was that the same one he’d busied himself with the night before? Yuri wasn’t sure.

Otabek’s shirt, however. That one was distinctly familiar. It was the exact same one that Yuri had complimented a few days earlier. It was quite simple, black with rolled up sleeves, yet what Yuri loved the most about it was that the three top buttons were miraculously missing, leaving the shirt quite open to reveal the shape of Otabek’s collarbones. If Yuri had known the brand, he might have considered sending a personal thank-you note to the designer.

Yuri sighed, reluctantly glancing down towards his computer again. Because although he didn’t want to risk being caught staring, it was hard not to when glancing towards Otabek for once didn’t mean being met with the other’s insistent gaze. Maybe he could risk looking over again in a couple of minutes. Or a single minute. Possibly half a minute, so long as he didn’t let his gaze linger.

What could possibly be so interesting about a stupid magazine, anyway?

 “Yuri.”

Yuri’s head snapped up.

Apparently, Otabek had set aside the magazine and turned towards Yuri, his hands resting in his lap. There was something very unusual in his expression. Confusion, maybe? Or concern?

“What?” Yuri demanded after a moment.

“I just wanted…” Otabek took a deep breath, for some reason starting over. “About last night.”

Fuck. _Fuck_.

“Yeah?”

“If I… Made you uncomfortable, in any way,” Otabek continued, speaking very slowly. “Then I’d like to apologize.”

Yuri blinked.

“Oh.”

Otabek shrugged lightly.

“Just wanted to say that.”

Yuri swallowed.

“That’s… No.”

“No?”

“No,” Yuri repeated, firmly.

“Okay,” Otabek said, nodding slowly. “So… That’s good?”

Yuri averted his gaze for a moment, desperately trying to think of the right thing to say. Because apparently, Otabek actually wanted to _talk about it_ , and hell if that wasn’t a first. And while Yuri had never been particularly good at this sort of thing, at least he wasn’t stupid – this was clearly one of those situations where the only way forward was going to be full speed ahead.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Yuri said, looking up to meet Otabek’s eyes again as he forced himself to continue. “Uncomfortable definitely isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Okay,” Otabek repeated, his brows furrowing slightly. “I just thought… You’ve seemed a bit off, today.”

Yuri sighed impatiently – clearly, subtlety wasn’t the way to go.

“And why do you think that is, hm?”

Otabek was quiet for a moment, considering. Yet his expression didn’t change. There was no sign of sudden realization.

Goddamnit.

“… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you said, last night. In a _good_ way, Otabek. Very, very good.”

“You…” Otabek’s eyes widened. “What? _Really_?”

“Yes, really.” Yuri allowed himself a slight grin, despite his own embarrassment. “That so hard to believe?”

“A bit.” Otabek cleared his throat. Suddenly, he looked rather nervous. “I mean, you’re… You’re _you_.”

If Yuri hadn’t been blushing before, he definitely was now.

“I find you very attractive,” he stated bluntly, confidently. Because there really was no defence quite like attack. “And you’re obviously very attracted to me. It’s flattering.”

Otabek actually smiled, at that, his expression pleasantly surprised. Yuri very nearly smiled back.

“You actually really like it?” he asked instead, curiously this time. “I mean, sucking dick.”

“Giving head,” Otabek said immediately, almost as if he was correcting Yuri’s choice of words. “Yeah. I really do.”

“Is that an offer, then?”

Otabek paused. This time he didn’t look as surprised as Yuri might’ve expected him to, yet there was something distinctly contemplative in his expression.

“I don’t know. Do you want it to be?”

Yuri couldn’t help it – his eyes were immediately drawn to the shape of Otabek’s lips, the fantasy from earlier that day at the forefront of his mind. Fuck. _Fuck_.

“I do, yeah,” he managed, just a bit too breathlessly. “I mean, if you want to. That’d be… Yeah.”

Otabek was quiet for another moment, glancing around the room a few times before his gaze landed on the couch.

“Can you sit over there?”

Yuri stared at the couch for a moment, before wordlessly getting up, slowly making his way over. Because apparently, in a completely batshit insane turn of events, this was actually happening. He sat down, spreading his legs a little and trying not to look quite as awkward as he felt. Otabek was already making his way over, kneeling unceremoniously in front of Yuri and fixing his gaze on Yuri’s crotch, something comically methodical in his expression.

“Can you get up just briefly? I just need, your pants…”

“Right.” Yuri hastened to comply, standing up and reaching for his zipper. “Sorry, I didn’t think-“

Yet Otabek stilled his hand with a gentle touch. “Hey, it’s all right. Let me.”

Yuri swallowed, slowly letting his hands fall to his sides. Otabek looked up to offer him a brief smile, for some reason looking completely at ease.

“Just relax. I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Otabek held Yuri’s gaze for a moment longer, just long enough for him to get the zipper halfway down. Yuri’s breath hitched just from that slight movement, from the hint of pressure against his crotch, a definite promise of what was to come. He barely had the time to see Otabek’s lips curving into a grin before Otabek lowered his gaze, pulling the zipper all the way down and popping open the button on Yuri’s jeans. Otabek carefully pushed Yuri’s jeans out of the way, letting them pool around his ankles.

He left Yuri’s boxers in place.

Yuri was just about to ask why when Otabek leaned forwards, mouthing at the shape of Yuri’s cock through his underwear.

“Fuck,” Yuri hissed, his gaze locked on the view of Otabek before him, the reality already so much better than the fantasy as Otabek licked along the shape of his dick, wetting the fabric. “Otabek, that’s… _Fuck_.”

Otabek’s laugh was quietly breathless.

“I’m barely getting started.”

“Keep going,” Yuri urged him, hating the already desperate edge in his tone. “Just keep… Fuck, that’s so _good_.”

Otabek was lapping at the head of Yuri’s cock, his tongue swirling around it, and even through the layer of cotton the sensation was kind of incredible. Otabek was using his hands, too, squeezing at the base of Yuri’s cock every now and then, his touch firm. Yuri could feel himself getting hard embarrassingly fast, his breaths coming out in short gasps. If Otabek kept this up, Yuri might very well come before they’d even gotten around to removing his boxers.

Thankfully, it seemed that wasn’t what Otabek had in mind, because a few moments later he pulled back, tugging lightly at the fabric of Yuri’s underwear.

“Lift your hips for me?”

Yuri quickly complied, allowing Otabek to easily pull the garment down. Yuri’s cock sprung free from the material, and Otabek’s hands were on him in an instant, squeezing all along Yuri’s length.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his eyes meeting Yuri’s briefly as he guided Yuri’s cock towards his lips. “So perfect.”

Yuri opened his mouth, a sharp demand for Otabek to _just fucking get on with it_ ready on his tongue, yet when Otabek finally pressed his lips to the head of Yuri’s cock it took all of Yuri’s willpower to hold back his breathy moan, instead. Yuri’s breath quickened as Otabek proceeded to lick long, agonizingly slow stripes along Yuri’s length, his tongue wet and deliciously warm and absolutely fucking perfect. Otabek glanced up towards him every now and then, his lips once again curved into a self-satisfied smirk.

“Enjoying yourself?” Yuri managed between gasps of breath, his tone not half as sharp as he’d have liked.

“Very much, yes.”

“Fuck, please don’t talk, don’t _stop_ , just… Just _more_.”

“Well,” Otabek murmured, kissing the tip of Yuri’s cock again. “Since you asked.”

Yuri would have snapped at him for talking again if Otabek hadn’t chosen that moment to finally take Yuri’s cock fully into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks experimentally. And this time, Yuri couldn’t have held back his ensuing moan even if he’d tried, the feeling of Otabek’s mouth all around his cock obliterating all his earlier coherency. Otabek was swirling his tongue around Yuri’s cock again, this time _inside_ his mouth, and then he somehow adjusted the angle to take Yuri in even deeper, the tip of Yuri’s cock grazing the back of Otabek’s throat. Yuri let his head fall back, the sensation almost too much yet somehow still not enough.

Otabek pulled back just a little, only to pull Yuri back in again, slowly starting to repeat the motion. Yuri found himself shivering from the friction, his cock achingly hard and the pressure building even faster than before. He reached down to loosely tangle his finger’s in Otabek’s hair, a move that Otabek evidently interpreted as encouragement because he immediately started to move faster and _fuck_ , Yuri definitely wasn’t going to last much longer.

“I’m… I’m gonna…” he rasped out, tugging weakly at Otabek’s hair, this time to warn him, yet the action only made Otabek take Yuri even deeper inside his mouth, hollowing his cheeks all around Yuri’s cock and suddenly Yuri was coming, his whole body shaking as he spilled himself into Otabek’s mouth. Otabek didn’t even try to pull back – instead he swallowed, again and again, seemingly effortlessly despite the fact that he’d kept Yuri’s cock deep in his mouth. Clearly, it was something of a practiced motion.

They were both quiet for a moment, after, while Otabek carefully pulled himself back and Yuri struggled to catch his breath. By the time Yuri opened his eyes again, Otabek was getting to his feet, his movements for some reason a little bit stiff.

“Do you want…?” Yuri begun with a glance towards Otabek’s crotch, partly because anything else would have felt rude but mostly because the idea was extremely appealing. “Should I…?”

“Ah, no.” For some reason, Otabek’s cheeks turned a deep red. “I’m good.”

“You sure?” Yuri wondered. “Really, I could-“

“There’s no need,” Otabek interrupted him quickly, lowering his gaze as he continued. “See, I already… Yeah. I’m good.”

Oh. _Oh_.

“Wow. You weren’t joking, huh?” Yuri offered Otabek a slight grin. “You _really_ get off on this.”

The tips of Otabek’s ears were still red.

“I thought I’d made that clear.”

“You did, I just didn’t think you’d… Well.”

Otabek cleared his throat, evidently still embarrassed. He glanced down towards his pants, grimacing.

“I’ve gotta go shower,” he muttered, stepping over to his closet to pick up a towel.

“Yeah, me too,” Yuri said, and then added before he could overthink it, “See you after?”

Otabek paused by the door, towel and clean underwear in hand, to look back over towards Yuri.

He nodded.

And then he was out the door, leaving Yuri alone in the room to realize that he was still sitting on the couch with his pants around his ankles.

Well.

Yuri showered as quickly as he possibly could, making it back to their room before Otabek. He immediately changed into something he could sleep in (a tank top and his favourite loose jogging pants), because after the events of the evening it seemed potentially awkward to have to undress before Otabek again. At least so soon afterwards. Hopefully, there would be other times for Yuri to remove his clothes in Otabek’s presence, preferably together with Otabek.

As long as Yuri didn’t screw up their next conversation too badly, there might at least be a chance for a continuation.

When Otabek came back, Yuri had settled onto his futon to scroll idly on his laptop. He pushed it away as soon as Otabek entered the room, immediately turning towards him. Otabek calmly set aside his things before sitting down on his own futon, meeting Yuri’s eyes.

And just like that, they were back where they’d started.

Yuri spoke first.

“Otabek, I think we-“

“Beka,” Otabek interrupted him. “My friends call me Beka.”

Yuri had never felt so simultaneously pleased and aggravated. Only a few hours earlier he’d have been over the moon to hear Otabek refer to him as a friend, yet now… Now the word felt more like an insult.

“You have friends?” Yuri shot back, the mocking edge in his tone a thin veil over his disappointment. “Who’d have thought.”

For some reason, that only made Otabek smile.

“That so hard to believe?”

“Kind of,” Yuri muttered. “You know, considering that you don’t ever _talk_.”

Otabek shrugged.

“I’m not too good with words.”

“You do realize your silence has been driving our coach completely crazy?”

Judging from Otabek’s look of genuine surprise, he actually hadn’t realized that.

“Is she mad?” he wondered unsurely.

Yuri shook his head.

“Yuuko doesn’t really get mad, unless you _really_ fuck something up. I think she’s a bit worried, though.”

Otabek was nodding slowly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Yuri wasn’t quite sure how to get back to the topic of what had happened earlier, or whether or not Otabek even wanted to talk about it. Although he _had_ wanted to talk things out before, hadn’t he? Maybe, if Yuri could just find a way of bringing it up, they could-

“Can tonight happen again?”

Yuri froze. He stared at Otabek, who was looking at him sort of as if he’d merely asked for the time, and not for potential sexual favours.

“I don’t…” Yuri took a deep breath, desperately trying to get his thoughts back in order. “I thought you only wanted to be friends?”

Otabek frowned.

“Did I say that?”

“… you sort of did, actually, yeah.”

“Oh.” Otabek was actually looking a bit forlorn. “I told you, I’m really not good with words.”

“I’m getting that.” Yuri dared to offer Otabek a small smile. Because apparently, his hope for future mutual nakedness might not have been in vain, after all. “And ’d like that, by the way.”

Otabek sat up a little bit straighter. “Just friends, or something more…?”

“Something more,” Yuri clarified, actually grinning, now. “Something more would be pretty fucking fantastic, actually.”

To his delight, Otabek offered him a wide smile.

“Great. That’s great.”

There was a softness in Otabek’s tone that for some reason made Yuri’s stomach feel all fluttery. And while that wasn’t a feeling he’d had for quite some time now, he still didn’t have any trouble identifying it for what it was. Fuck. _Fuck_. Yuri quickly filed those thoughts away in a corner of his mind, because he definitely couldn’t be thinking about any of that right now, when Otabek was still looking at him like _that_.

In a desperate attempt to not meet Otabek’s eyes, Yuri glanced at his laptop for the time.

“It’s getting kind of late, and we’re both going for an early run tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes.” For some reason, Otabek’s tone sounded vaguely disappointed. “Guess we should try to get some sleep?”

Yuri couldn’t help it – he glanced back over towards Otabek, taking in his ruffled, damp hair, meeting his still attentive gaze.

Oh, screw it.

“… so, how’d you feel about cuddling?”

“That’s… Yeah.” Otabek offered him another breathtaking smile. “Yes. I’d really like that.”

Yuri’s stomach may have made another summersault. But at least he managed to reel in his completely ridiculous smile.

“Good. Should I come over to you, or…?”

“Maybe if we push our mattresses together? We can just move the table to the wall.”

Yuri glanced quickly between their actually very movable futons, nodding appreciatively. “Great thinking. Let’s do it.”

And so it happened that Yuri and Otabek ended the day with some practical refurnishing, before awkwardly climbing into bed together. Yuri may or may not have held his breath as Otabek carefully wrapped his arms around him. After being very still for a moment, he tentatively snuggled up to rest his head on Otabek’s shoulder.

“This okay?”

“Perfect,” Otabek murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Yuri’s forehead. “You’re so perfect, Yuri.”

This time, Yuri hid his smile in the crook of Otabek’s neck.

“And you say you’re not good with words.”

“I guess you just inspire me.” Otabek’s fingertips were tracing circles across Yuri’s bare arms. “Everything about you is kind of amazing.”

Yuri closed his eyes, the fluttering sensation in his stomach at an all-time high (at this point it had to be a quadruple fucking summersault and hell if that wasn’t a world record).

“Whatever you say, Casanova,” he replied, just a moment too late. “Let’s try to get some sleep now, yeah?”

“Okay. Goodnight, Yuri.”

Yuri stifled a yawn, shifting a little against Otabek and reaching up to curl his fingers loosely in Otabek’s hair.

“Night, Beka.”

Otabek’s movements stilled for a moment at the nickname, only to resume a few seconds later, this time tracing upwards across Yuri’s collarbones and his almost-bare shoulders. Gradually, Yuri found himself relaxing into his touch, slowly letting himself drift off to sleep.

The very last thing Yuri remembered from that night was the soft touch of Otabek’s lips to his cheek, accompanied by a quiet murmur of something in a language he didn’t understand. And although the words were incomprehensible, the warmth in Otabek’s tone was completely unmistakable.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this wondering why Phichit and Yuri are friends (or at least sort of), and what they're all doing in Hasetsu, and since when is Yuuko a coach...? Then I'd recommend you to hop on over to the first part of this series, as that provides the context for basically everything in this fic. Also, the band that Yuri recommends Otabek, [ONE OK ROCK](https://www.youtube.com/user/ONEOKROCKchannel), is a Japanese rock group that I 100% think Yuri would be into.
> 
> Thanks to my absolutely wonderful beta, who can be my 'something more' any day. ♥
> 
> You can find me [here](http://eriskay.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Come say hi!


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